When DO You Leave A Party if the Sun Doesn't Go Down?

Allo from somewhere in the Arctic Circle.

So you're at a bonfire below the 60th parallel, the sun will go down and the guitars will come out. You never need to look at your watch because a subconscious little voice will tell you that when the streaks of sun come stealing across the horizon it's time to put down the travel mug of booze and take yourself home.

Ahhh the Sun. Or 'God's Flashlight' as I like to call it. It firmly taps on the window of your consciousness and asks "Have you been drinking tonight ma'am?" At which point the bedraggled version of "Me and Bobby McGee" stops and the realization that you've been partying too long hits. Followed by the realizations that your eyes are burning from smoke, your guitar playing is really really bad, and you've been drinking from a cup that contains cigarette butts. A brief moment of clarity in an otherwise foggy evening.

But what happens when you're in a place where the sun never goes down, the whiskey never stops flowing, and you never realise how bad your guitar playing truly is?

You are punished the next day when you are on call.

You are punished by a phone ringing--pulling you out of your unconsciousness. Punished as you remember you are on call, and therefore, you have to answer it. You are punished by the pus filled festering wound of a patient that you must clean with bleary eyes and the steady hand of Nick Cage before the tequila in Leaving Las Vegas. And all of this on an empty stomach...well maybe you're happy that it is on an empty stomach...

But then you discover that, actually, you are happy about a lot of things!

You are happy about the fact that you never disclosed any details about your sex life, you didn't end up in the hot tub with all the RCMPs, and you avoided stumbling home down main street (by getting a ride home with the 2 addictions counsellors, mind you).

And what, if anything, did you learn from your foibles?

When it is the night before you have to be on call, and you go to a BBQ in the Arctic:

-Always forget your bathing suit in another province or territory.
-Never accept scotch from an officer, even if he isn't in uniform.
-Never agree to stay for 'just one more' song off the Dance Mix '92 cd.
-Never forget your watch.
-And always remember that you have to be on call the next day. And that that means the next 24h straight. With a potential for no time for food/showers/peeing/teeth brushing/deodorant applying/sleeping...

Sadly I cannot post photos to accompany this tale of woe (or woah) because I swore and oath as I left the gathering
"I will not post these on my blog"
"I will not post these on my blog"
"I will not post these on my blog"
just before my final
"You don't KNOW ME!"
outburst of the night.